


Choco Late

by Zhie



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Bunniverse, Gondolin, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-14
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-12-15 11:57:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11805528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zhie/pseuds/Zhie
Summary: Late night affection, House of the Harp & Swallow style.





	Choco Late

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mirtathor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mirtathor/gifts).



Like most couples, Duilin and Salgant had their own nightly routine for usual evenings at home. Salgant would be home first, eat a substantial meal with various invited friends and family members, retire to the hall to entertain with his musical talents, and eventually retire to the private part of the house. Duilin would miss supper because of some sort of business, listen to the music while finishing up work that he brought home in the study, and eventually join Salgant in the part of Salgant’s house that was most like home to both of them sometime during or after Salgant’s evening snack – not to be confused with his midnight snack.

Unlike most couples, their conversations included cryptic conversation that sounded more like the reading of a menu than terms of endearment, and a substantial amount of cursing.

“The fuck are you doing down there?” Duilin had just arrived minutes earlier. After instructing the butler to leave a bottle of chilled wine outside of the door, but to otherwise not disturb them, Duilin locked the door and proceeded to strip down to his loincloth. He was now lounging on a sofa watching Salgant crawl about on the floor.

“The fuck does it look like I am doing?” The question came without Salgant looking up.

“Looks like you have your ass up in the air like you want me to come over and fuck you, my ample apple pie.”

Salgant did not need to turn around for Duilin to know he was smirking. “Well, my perfectly persnickety persimmon, I will remind you that only one of us does the fucking around here.” He reached for something in the rug, but found nothing but a shadow.

“Not in that position.” Duilin stretched his arms above his head. “Seriously, what the fuck are you doing?”

“Looking for something.”

“Obviously, my chocolate covered blueberry tart.”

“Good guess.”

Duilin yawned as he stretched again. “Come again?”

“Chocolate.” Salgant sat back again, which was more of a roll than a sit, but it got him somewhat upright. “I was hungry for a bit of chocolate, but all I had left up here were some of those tiny little chocolate morsels.”

“What happened, my perky pumpkin poutine? Did the bowl spill?”

Salgant sighed. “No. A few of them missed my mouth and fell. I thought I should find them, but I think they are hiding.”

“Shall I help you look?” offered Duilin.

Salgant struggled to stand and eventually did so. “Maybe you will have better luck than I.”

Duilin looked Salgant over and shook his head. “Undoubtedly.”

“My, my, someone is confident tonight,” remarked Salgant.

“Confident because I solved your riddle already. Take a look in a mirror – your chocolate chips are now chocolate spots on your belly.”

Salgant tried to see what Duilin was referring to, but had to go to one of the mirrors in the room as suggested. “Oh, ho!” He ran a finger through one and licked off the melted chocolate. “Mystery solved.”

“Glad to be of service,” said Duilin.

Salgant walked back and gave the floor a frown. “Of course, we cannot be sure there are none on the floor.” He gave Duilin a puppyish look.

Duilin stretched again and got up. “Shall I take a second look?”

“Yes, please, my butterscotch basted boysenberry, but first—“

“Take off the rest of the clothes?” guessed Duilin.

Salgant gave Duilin’s retreating rear a hearty smack once it was revealed to him. “If you insist,” he said flippantly as he greedily waited for Duilin to get onto all fours on the floor.


End file.
